Now, of course, all my lovely friends here aren’t crazed, rapey maniacs, but I found this video and thought I’d share so that if you have kids in high school or college and find it hard to talk about Sexy-Time stuff, you might encourage them to peek at this video.
Have a great weekend! Love you guys! XOXO
Well, you guys know that our little Tick Teddy likes to go on wild adventures.
He’s been all over the country and up into Canada, leaving a trail of dead hookers in his wake.
There’s no confining him. No stopping him. He just won’t abide!
This week, Tick Teddy is on Hollywood Boulevard.
He’s laying waste to everything in his path and I will show you the evidence that can certainly (hopefully) be used against him in a court of law.
Tick’s Seemingly Innocent Start
“Hi mama. Daddy left me here while he’s off banging bar slut wannabes. There’s nothing for me to play with. I’m bored mama.”
Tick Finds a Friend
“Look who I found, mama! I gots me a Tyrannical Rex to play with. I hope he doesn’t pull me down into a life ‘a crime. I’ma gonna use him to help me see over all the tall people heads. Not to rob banks. No sirreee bob. I promise.”
Tick and Daddy Share a Star
“Told you I was gonna be good. Me ‘n Daddy have our own star on the Walk o’ Shame…oh, I means Walk of Fame.”
Tick Has a Bad Dream
“Hey mama, I gots you a new boyfriend! He tells me he’s the man that dreams are made of. I’m not sure I believe him mama. Mama???”
Tick Finds a Solution
“Whew! No bad dreams for the Tick, mama. I gots me a hundrit percent solution to what ails me.”
Tick Finds His Father
“Mama, I thought you said Daddy was my Daddy? Then why is this asshat telling me that HE’S my father? What’s goin’ on, mama?”
Tick Breaks the Law
“Look, mama, I had to escape my new Daddy. He touched me in bad places. So, yeah, I’ma gonna turn right on red. I gots ta get outta here and fast!”
Tick Gets a Close Encounter of the Boobage Kind
“It sure is warm in here mama. Tick likey.”
Tick Savors the Spoils
“Now mama, don’t get upset. It’s alcohol-free beer. I ain’t shining you on. You knows I’m a good Tick and would never do anything bad or that would get me in trouble.”
Tick Goes to the Pokey
“Well, mama, it had to happen sumtime. I’m just glad you aren’t around to see it first hand. They’s throwing me in the hootscow. I’ma dun for. Say bye to the other teddies for me. I see the way that ho’se is eyeballin’ me. This ain’t gonna go down easy…”
Fare thee well, little buddy. Mommy and Daddy will always love you…
PS: Big props to the hubby, who, while out of town and knowing that I miss him terribly, takes Tick on his adventures and sends me these pictures to make me smile. I am truly the most blessed girl on earth. I love you, baby! 🙂
I got to thinking tonight, after visiting a Facebook page dedicated to the small town I grew up in, about how much fun it was to grow up in the 80s as a teenager.
Yeah, we didn’t have the Internet (eeeee gawds!).
We didn’t have cell phones.
I had to get my lazy ass off the dent in the sofa to change the channel. My tolerance for mis-aligned rabbit ears was quite high. I could watch a show even though its horizontal tuning made the picture flip up every 10 seconds.
I didn’t even have caller ID until I was 22.
My 1973 Buick LeSabre (the boat) had an AM radio that would change stations if I took a sharp turn (doing 85mph!).
That same “boat” saw tons o’ backseat action from my friends (and occasionally me) at parties at the Peach Orchard or on someone’s farm or backyard.
I hid my smokes and my birth control pills under the seat in my car and blamed them on my friends when my mom found them.
We had tons of parties most weekends since my mom was newly married to my ex-step-father and they’d go out and come home very late with leaves in their hair.
At those parties, everyone would throw their beer cans into the snow in the backyard, only to be discovered by my mom when the snow melted. I lied on the spot SOOOO well about where the beer cans originated that I somehow managed to not only NOT get in trouble, but garner sympathy from her.
At those same parties, we once had someone take the bananas in the fruit basket and half eat them, then stick their gooey remains all over the house to be found by my mom upon coming home. That was harder to explain than the beer cans, but I managed.
After those awesome parties, boys would toss rocks at my sister’s and my bedroom windows to get us to sneak out–we typically did! We just had to wait for either the AC or the heat to kick on as it was so loud you couldn’t hear the suction noise the front door made when it closed.
At one of those sneak outs, I had I guy tell me we could use his dad’s hot tub. When we got to his dad’s apartment he filled the bath tub with hot water and said, “Voila! A hot tub.” No, he got no ass that night. 😉
I remember having a teacher at one of my high schools and the sluttier my friends and I would dress, the more he’d let us skip class and hang out in his office drinking his liquor and smoking stogies.
I remember another teacher who was a total perv, and I had him for 2 classes, so I skipped both of them for an entire year and right before summer break my vice principal called me into his office and asked where I’d gone for those 2 classes all year long. My response was, “Away from that pervert….” Yeah, I didn’t get in a bit of trouble. All was forgiven.
I fondly recall driving by hot guys’ houses and writing in chalk on the road in front of their houses things like “You’re hot.” God, what a doofus.
Once, I went to the Rock-n-Roll Revival (an awesome music show my HS put on) and doodled my love for a certain guy all over the show’s program while leaving comments (most of them flattering) next to all of the cast members’ names, then stupidly dropping it in the floor instead of the trash can so that EVERYFUCKINGONE could read it. I still feel bad about doodling that one girl had duck feet. She was so nice and I didn’t expect for anyone else to lay eyes on it.
I loved making mix tapes for boyfriends and misery tapes after the breakup. Kids nowadays have no idea how hard it is to skip through every radio station looking for THE song so you could get it on tape, just to miss the first 5 seconds. That wonderful stress of NEEDING that song but knowing the challenge you faced actually finding it for your tape.
I remember putting bologna slices all over a dickbag’s car because, well, he was a dickbag. Boy was he pissed (that was as bitchy as I ever got, and I know it wasn’t really nice). But seriously, he was such a dick, he had it comin’.
I recall when one of my best friends kicked the glass panel in the exit door by the Ertzman Theater and put her foot through it. Yep, their was blood.
I used to get such a thrill out of running away from Jack the Hall Monitor at my first high school and buying Ruby the Hall Monitor at my second HS some McDonalds so that she’d let me skip and not bust me.
I thoroughly enjoyed wearing bra tops and miniskirts with 4-inch heels to school ’cause, yeah, that’s appropriate.
I was terrified when a different vice principal at my second HS came and dragged me out of my 12th grade English class to “explain” the state of my locker to him. It was OUR locker, not my locker. But luckily for my locker-mates, they all just happened to not be in school that day, so I had to scrub the fucking thing clean with Ajax while wearing those 4-inch heels. Oh, and yes, I was MORTIFIED by the nasty shit written in that locker when the VP was standing next to me. We had drawn perversion all over it. It was awesome!
I longingly remember making out with sexy boys and not letting them get to 2nd base because I liked being a good girl (sometimes, not ALL the time!).
I loved going to OC (the beach at Ocean City) and not going to sleep until the sun came up and praying no one would smell the pot under the door of the hotel. I never had a desire to go to jail.
Walking a mile in deep snow to get to the High’s for an ice cream cone was awesome and well worth it.
I’d make visits to the Sandy Spring Bank, all dolled up and smelling pretty, to go flirt with an old flame.
And I’d eat at “The Deli” with my mom all the time. They had the best grilled provolone on Rye with tomato sandwiches and veggie soup I’ve ever had!
All of these things I loved so very much and I miss my hometown all the time.
To all of you who grew up around the same era as me, I hope you had as much fun as I did.
And much love to all of the wicked, naughty friends I had that contributed to my debauchery! I know I corrupted a few of you back, and damn was it fun! XOXOXOXO
Well, it had to start sometime.
I didn’t come out of the chute like this.
All this sassiness and naughtiness and perversion sprouted from somewhere.
Below is a glimpse into how it all began (there’s video too!).
When I was just a wee mite of a girl, just twenty one (and two days), I did my first interview as a host for a local TV show called Rock Live. I’d pop around all over Baltimore and DC interviewing bands, drooling over hot musicians, you know, typical girl stuff. 🙂
It was such a fun job and I met so many talented, amazing people. I also got chased all over DC by a car full of boys with bad intent while my producer was doing 100 mph trying desperately to find a cop who could help. Ultimately, it was a McDonald’s parking lot with a cop eating an ice cream cone that saved us. Whew!
But, I digress…
Most of the time, it was a blast. And this very first interview was, I think, the best. It was all so fresh and new and exciting.
Now, when I say “best” I don’t mean me. I SUCKED! Wow. I mean, wow. I was not a good interviewer yet. And my accent? Good lord. That is one U.G.L.Y. accent. I pronounced my own name wrong! How is that possible? My name is not spelled Jouudi. That’s what you get for growing up near Baltimore with a mom with a southern accent and a dad with a DC accent. A muddled nightmare! Luckily, I managed to murder that accent pretty quickly after hearing it for the first time on-air. Who wouldn’t? That shit was awful, as you will soon hear.
So, even though I may not have been the greatest interviewer (…and the award for Greatest Understatement goes to Jodi!), it was still an amazing night where I made some good friends. Plus, can we all say it together: Sexy boys rule! 😉 (No disrespect to the hubby as he is my ULTIMATE sexy boy!)
Date: June 7th, 1991
Location: The Rage, Baltimore City
The Band: Hung Jury
Enjoy (and feel free to make hideous fun of me…I can take it…really, I can…I swear…well…). 😉